BJ Barham and his band American Aquariumare no strangers to Wilmington. Barham has frequented the area with AA or as a spare but powerful acoustic solo act. The band delivers a combustible mix of Country and Rock with a heap of fire behind songs that adequately hold a mirror up to people living hard or having a hard time living.

Barham is at the center as a Reidsville, North Carolina native with a caustic, accented voice rife with intensity and elegantly rural sincerity. A fine songwriter, he’s prone to write about what he sees and what he knows. I interviewed him back in 2011 and the discussion detoured to an upcoming album that he’d mostly written all the songs for and set to be produced by Jason Isbell of Drive By Truckers.

Conversation about its theme led to Barham’s thoughts on what the band endured over the years trying to make it. Listening to their new album “Burn.Flicker.Die” it’s clear the focus of what it would be in 2011 hasn’t changed much now that it’s finished. It’s an outstanding record, one finding the band in great form, wounds and all.

I believe its their best, showcasing a group of musicians playing from the gut and the heart, and doing what bands do at their best, taking what they’re living into the studio and then out on stage. “Burn.Flicker.Die” is buried in darkness and hope, driven home by a lyric in “Jacksonville” where Barham sings about poison in his veins, the lie that rock and roll is still alive and that things are gonna change. (Stream songs from the album here)

Below is a question from that 2011 interview about “Burn.Flicker.Die” that would be recorded in Muscle Shoals, Alabama.

Have you written songs for the next record?

Barham: “There are still a couple songs I need to write. I’ve got eight or nine for it. One of the guys in our band just got out of a marriage. It’s a blatant reminder that what we’re doing is not fun and games, we’re not in our early 20’s anymore. It’s an upbeat record but it’s a kind of a downer thing… When you’re 18, 19, 20, you think, “I’m going to start a band. I’m going to be a rock star.” It’s all fun. You get your first tour and you think this is awesome. We’re going to be huge. Several years later you realize maybe we’re not going to be as popular as we thought we were but maybe we can at least make a living at this. Stark reality is starting to show its face and that’s what coming out in songs.”

“Burn.Flicker.Die” was recently released on Last Chance Records, a strangely fitting label name given the material. On the album Barham writes openly about realities of being on the road, the addictions, failed relationships, and approaching the age of 30 and questioning decisions and concerns about making it, as a band or out alive (see the song “Casualties”).

Musicians don’t make an album like “Burn.Flicker.Die” lacking hard earned experience. Barham carries a heavy weight on his shoulders with these songs and it’s evident in his singing. He’s a heartfelt, gravel throated wonder whose sincerity is never in doubt. The album will grab you from the beginning, with its mix of rock and roll tumblers and ballads about living fast, living hard, and choices far different from what our fathers did before us and wanted for their children.

This is an album about life lessons and results of choices made. Its songs are told from the point of view of rock and roll musicians and those left behind in small towns trying to milk one more night out of being young and then some. The emotional textures (and intentions) here outweigh observation-rich and relationship songs found on previous AA albums. This takes a long hard look in the mirror and admitting that someone is, as Barham sings, “Running from the man my mama wanted me to be.”

Barham writes image rich material here, from the opener “Cape Fear River” to the brutally honest title track. He spins tales of life boiling down to diapers and Direct TV, pointing cars east, Tin Man hearts, self medication and even American girls drinking Mexican beer on “St. Mary’s,” a riled-up Midwestern sounding rocker.

There are songs about too much time spent on the road, tossing back booze and pills where Barham sings about “whiskey and Adderoll.” His delivery doesn’t come off like cheap rock star bravado but as harsh facts, and never more than on “Harmless Sparks” whose elegant slide guitar and piano playing drive the emotions home. He crafts a timeless gem in “Lonely Ain’t Easy” a ballad whose gentle violin lends a stark edge against the ragged guitar. Barham isn’t broad; he’s specific in the song, singing about the records a lover took as if they mean everything and nothing. He opens it with “Only thing certain is that we end up alone/Pick up the pieces of our once happy home” and directs a gallant chorus of “Lonely ain’t easy/And lonely ain’t kind/And lonely won’t leave me/Cause she’s a good friend of mine.”

“Jacksonville” is the best song. It’s a strong lament for better crossroads, one that builds and builds only to go quiet suddenly as if the power went out. There’s no real closure and it’s a choice that becomes an incredibly smart move by its creators. That sudden ending is jarring, effective, and leaves a listener with the sense there is no finality, no answer to the song’s narrator’s direction. Does he make it out, did things end hastily? It’s a simple adjustment to a song that gives it larger presence and thus makes a stellar album more meaningful.

“Burn.Flicker.Die” is a searing document of where a band stands and where they’ve been, one with “full time jobs and full time addictions” per the song “Saturday Nights.” The album is experience masking as musical artifact, perfectly summed up in the title track’s chorus about pushing things too far – “we burn too long and we flicker and die.” Maybe that’s better than Direct TV and diapers, maybe its just one side of a means to an end.

About This Blog

The WAE: Wilmington-area Arts & Entertainment is dedicated to experiencing, discussing and promoting the arts in Southeastern N.C. From theater and all manner of music to visual art, dance, festivals and more, The WAE is populated by people who are immersed in local A&E. If it’s about A&E in Southeastern N.C., then we’re all about it.